


the space between silences

by postfixrevolution



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: (attempt at) Comfort, Angst, F/M, MC's name is Seongmi, Unrequited Love, when will they get a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 14:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfixrevolution/pseuds/postfixrevolution
Summary: “I want to know you, Seven.”“You don’t want that.”“How can you tell me what I want when you’ve barely spoken to me since you arrived here?”He winces.





	the space between silences

**Author's Note:**

> Seongmi is my MC's name across all of my MM fic. ^^ This takes place on Day 7, perhaps? Almost any day after Luciel arrives, really.
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so forgive any little mistakes, and enjoy!

Calculations and code spin relentlessly through his thoughts, algorithms so convoluted and numerous that their symbols begin to blur into each other, furthering the already unbearable pounding of his head. Seongmi is awake and breathing behind him - just loudly enough for Seven to know she isn’t asleep - and the tension in the air is palpable. He can almost hear the curious words that dance dangerously on the tip of her tongue. 

He pauses, fingers idling for a whole second on the worn buttons of his keyboard. They twitch under the unusual wait. When not a sound escapes her mouth, he feels a tidal wave of numbers and formulas crash against the inside of his skull. His fingers curl into white-knuckled fists. There’s no equation in the world that can let him quantify the magnitude of her silence, but his mind twists itself into impossible formulas trying to, anyway. 

With a soundless sigh, he falls back against his chair, running spindly fingers through his hair. 

“You should rest,” Seongmi says. He hears the sofa cushions shift as she moves about on her makeshift bed. “Take my bed. I’m comfortable here.”

Seven doesn’t bother to turn around. “Sleep won’t do me any good,” he responds simply. “I need to watch you and I need to work. You go sleep.”

The sofa cushions shift about again. She must be sitting up.

“I refuse.”

“Seongmi--”

“Luciel.” He turns around to face her, and whatever scowl he has on his face wavers at the sight of her concerned tawny eyes, shining under the bright glow of his laptop. Seongmi stares at him as if his next breath might be his last, and he can see it in the tight curl of her fists and soft tremble of her lips: she’s scared that he might fade away. The thought causes him to turn back toward his laptop. “Let me help you,” she urges him. “Please.”

“There’s nothing you can do. Go to sleep.”

“There would be so much for me to do if you just let me know,” she repartees. “I want to know you, Seven.”

“You don’t want that, Seongmi.”

“How can you tell me what I want when you’ve barely spoken to me since you arrived here?”

He winces. Seongmi doesn’t say anything else afterward, but he can still hear her soft breathing past the hum of his laptop. She doesn’t leave. Seven sucks in a deep breath.

“You can ask one question,” he mutters, keeping his back turned toward her. Seongmi does her best to hide it, but the sound of a barely-there gasp is loud enough to be caught by his trained ears. “Not because you mean anything special,” he lies softly, “but because some knowledge might help you feel safer. You were right about me not knowing you. I don’t care to know about you. Your safety is the only thing I care about.”

“Thank you,” she tells him softly. He elects not to ask what for.

Seven closes his eyes, allowing him the briefest of moments to cross his arms and lean back in his chair, resting for what short time he may have while Seongmi forms her question. He knows already that she will ask for more information, more ways to help, and though his chest aches at the thought that he can’t allow her that curiosity - not without endangering her life - he can’t allow there to be any exceptions.

“Seven…” she begins, almost hesitantly. He turns around to face her, and she still has that same concerned, fearful expression in her eyes. It almost makes him scared that he will fade away, too. 

“Will you please be kinder to yourself?” Seongmi asks softly. “Not everything is your fault, Seven. You aren’t a monster or a fake or the cold person you’re telling yourself you are. I have faith in the 707 who is selfless and loves his friends too much, the 707 I have such dear feelings for.” The smile she directs at him is small, but it creases her eyes and sparkles in her tawny irises. “Please, be kind to him, okay? To yourself.”

It’s just for a moment, but he stares. Then, he turns right back to his laptop.

“That’s a request,” he responds eventually. “It’s not a question.”

Seongmi pauses for a moment, and Seven does not need to turn around to see the way her face falls, how she bites at her bottom lip as she tries to grasp for replies in the little room that he leaves her. The mental image makes his chest tighten.

“It is,” she admits slowly. “But it is all I want. I’ll go to sleep now, if you want.” The sofa cushions shift around noisily as she stands up. “Will you do it, though?” she prompts him. 

Seven’s fingers curl into his palms, digging nails into the soft flesh.

“Will you stay awake with me for a bit longer, Seongmi?” he asks in lieu of answering. His fingers curl and uncurl anxiously as he awaits her reply.

“Everything I just told you. Can you do it for me?”

Molten gold eyes fall closed, and Seven exhales a heavy sigh.

“I can’t.”

A pause.

“Good night, Luciel.”

He hears her leave, feet padding lightly on the cold wooden floor. Her door clicks softly shut as she retreats into her room, and Seven doesn’t hear it open again for the rest of the night. It doesn’t feel like a job well done at all.


End file.
